


Agreements

by Just_All_Random



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Self-Harm, soft, youngjo is treating it though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:34:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23543224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_All_Random/pseuds/Just_All_Random
Summary: He believed that Youngjo really was there for him, that he would help him at his darkest moments, that he really did care about Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong loved that feeling, and in him it bursted an uncontrollable warmth that made his face flush a bright red right in front of maybe the only person in the world who cared about him.
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 5
Kudos: 71





	Agreements

Hwanwoong hugged his legs close to himself, back hitting the front wood of the teacher’s lectern. Even then he tried his best to make himself smaller and just disappear under it.

He was supposed to meet Youngjo in this room after school. He arrived first, immediately regretting his initial agreement. Youngjo said he was going to bring bandages and stuff (which Hwanwoong couldn’t understand the point of when most his cuts had already dried and scabbed over), and when Hwanwoong protested with “ _why the fuck do you even care?_ ”, Youngjo replied with “ _because I just do._ ”

A fucking idiot could only be so easily swayed by such a dumb and simplistic answer. And yet here Hwanwoong sat pathetically hiding underneath a wooden lectern of a random, forgotten classroom, being that fucking idiot as per usual.

He could just leave. He didn’t need to stay. He didn’t need to tell Youngjo why he didn’t need to either. And he most definitely didn’t need Youngjo’s help. But, being the fucking idiot he was, Hwanwoong stayed, hoping Youngjo would walk in and think Hwanwoong didn’t go through with their agreement and leave, hoping Youngjo wouldn’t walk in at all.

But then the door on the other side of the classroom slid open, followed by the tapping of footsteps against the hardwood floorboards.

Hwanwoong hugged himself closer, careful not to produce even the slightest audible sound. His heart pounded as if it were going to explode, which he cursed because it was beginning to get increasingly harder to breathe under this cramped lectern. Hwanwoong stayed though, hoping Youngjo, or whoever the hell it was, would go away.

He heard a sigh and a bag plopping onto a wood seat. Gripped the fabric of his shirt, trying to calm his breaths.

And then his phone began to ring right next to him, the screen lighting up with Youngjo’s contact. Quietly freaking out, Hwanwoong hung up the phone, but he was already found out.

The steps toward the front of the room were slow, suspenseful almost, but it almost felt like this person was giving him enough time to decide whether or not he wanted to book it and run out the classroom. But Hwanwoong stayed, hugging himself as he felt completely vulnerable.

A pair of converse sneakers appeared in front of him before the owner of them slowly hunched down with a friendly grin, phone in hand. It was Youngjo, of course.

Hwanwoong tried to back away from Youngjo but his back hit the wood of the lectern. Youngjo was already too close for comfort, and they were only a foot or so away from each other. Imagine what it had to be like when Youngjo had to put on the bandages? Maybe Youngjo could be a little generous and give him another chance to run away.

“What are you doing down here?” Youngjo asked, sitting down on the floor while allowing enough space for Hwanwoong to crawl out of the lectern at anytime.

Hwanwoong didn’t answer, looking away from Youngjo. The realization of what they agreed to be here for made Hwanwoong’s chest squeeze in anxiety. He was going to have to pull up his sleeves. He didn’t like showing his scars.

“Hwanwoong,” Youngjo called softly, though his tone was stern. “I want to help you.”

Hwanwoong bit down on his cheek before he decided to spare Youngjo a brief glance. He looked worried yet determined. Hwanwoong couldn’t understand why. (Well, it was more or less he wouldn’t let himself understand why.)

“Do you still want to do this?”

Hwanwoong gave Youngjo another glance before he eventually just kept staring, trying to figure out why Youngjo went out of his way to help a freshman boy who cut himself. The more he thought about it, the more he didn’t want to believe it, the more his chest tightened. He looked away, huffing away the tension. 

“Whatever, just do it.”

He barely caught Youngjo’s happy grin that bloomed to his answer from the corner of his eye.

“Do you want to get out from under there or do you want me bring the stuff over here?” Youngjo picked himself off the floor.

Hwanwoong didn’t want to get out from his little hideaway, it made him feel that bit more secure at a time he’s so vulnerable. But nor did he feel like talking either. He simply shook his head, opting for the simple and vague gestures before he eventually regained enough energy to care.

Youngjo wordlessly got up and walked away to retrieve his bag. Hwanwoong was somewhat surprised that he didn’t have to repeat his gesture or that Youngjo didn’t make him speak. He brushed it off though once the older sat in front of him again, his bag of god knows what plopped down beside him.

“Can I see your arm?” Youngjo gently requested.

Hwanwoong hesitated.  _No_ , he wanted to tell Youngjo. But there he was, defying his own rule as he slowly extended his arm out to Youngjo. He wasn’t going to be the one to pull up his sleeve though, seeing how his body no longer let him make the decisions and instead uncontrollably shook.

Youngjo gently wrapped his hand around his wrist, his other hand taking the corner of Hwanwoong’s school shirt sleeve. He began to pull up the boy’s sleeve, revealing slash after slash, old and new. Hwanwoong looked away, ashamed, afraid of Youngjo’s judging eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” Hwanwoong blurted as per usual, voice trembling.

But Youngjo wasn’t judging him.

“It’s okay,” Youngjo whispered. It wasn’t, it wasn’t okay to do that to himself, Hwanwoong knew that.

“When was this?” The older asked, fingers hovering over an almost-fresh cut, red and irritated from rubbing on fabric, a small opening that’s still healing. If he handled it wrong, it would’ve started bleeding again.

“This mo-orning,” Hwanwoong’s voice cracked. He coughed, trying to cover it up. Youngjo looked up at the other, concern in his eyes. Hwanwoong shrunk even smaller under his gaze, burying his face into his knees.

“Okay..” the older let go of Hwanwoong’s arm, turning around to reach for his bag. He pulled out a jar of convenience store brand petroleum jelly along with a roll of gauze tape and small packets of antibacterial wipes.

“I don’t see the point in doing this,” Hwanwoong commented, trying to occupy his mind with placid irritation instead.

“To reduce scarring,” Youngjo answered, ripping open an antibacterial wipe packet.

“I already have scars,” Hwanwoong said, wincing as Youngjo wiped the small, wet cloth over his arm. The smell of alcohol singed his nostrils and it stung his newer cuts.

“But you’re going to have less now,” Youngjo pulled away again, putting down the wipe to grab the jar of petroleum jelly. He twisted it open, swiping up a dollop of the substance with a cotton swab Hwanwoong didn’t even notice the other had.

Hwanwoong fell silent, Youngjo carefully spreading the jelly over his cuts. The boy bit the inside of his cheek whenever his cut stung, making sure he didn’t utter a single sound.

Youngjo was generous enough not to initiate any unnecessary conversation. Hwanwoong was thankful for that, unsure if he would cry the next time he spoke.

It felt like an eternity until Youngjo was done with the petroleum jelly. Next were the bandages. Hwanwoong was happy this was almost done so he could finally go home. Though he couldn’t help but predict that Youngjo work would be useless in the end. Bandages may reduce scarring but it wasn’t like they could prevent Hwanwoong from cutting himself.

“I’m sorry,” Hwanwoong said in advance.

“Why are you sorry?” Youngjo glanced up at the younger, looping the roll of gauze around Hwanwoong’s arm.

“For wasting your time,” the freshman explained simply. 

“You’re not wasting my time,” Youngjo smoothened out the bandage, shaking his head. A small grin spread across his lips, carefully holding Hwanwoong’s arm as if he had the world’s most precious piece of porcelain in his hands. ”Helping someone I care about is never a waste of my time.”

Hwanwoong’s heart skipped a beat at that.

He coughed, looking away from the older student, ears burning at the tips.

“Whatever.”

Youngjo let a soft breath of laughter, an endeared smile on his lips. He shook his head again, packing his small medical kit and standing up. Hwanwoong looked up at the other, strangely afraid he was going to leave him. Instead, Youngjo held his hand out to him, reaching out for him.

“Are you gonna get up or what?” Youngjo chuckled, that dumb smile still on his face.

Hwanwoong pursed his lips, trying to push away the buzzing restlessness tumbling inside of him waiting to escape. He didn’t know why his heart was pounding so hard against his chest as his hand reached for Youngjo’s, and when Youngjo’s long fingers curled around his small palm, and when Youngjo pulled him out from under the lectern, and when Youngjo wrapped his arms around him.

When Youngjo hugged him so tightly in his arms like that, and looked at him with those dark chocolate eyes that spilled warmth and tenderness, and when he compassionately said to him “I’m here for you,” Hwanwoong was scared. And no, he wasn’t scared because he didn’t believe those words like he always did. He was scared of the opposite. He believed that Youngjo really was there for him, that he would help him at his darkest moments, that he really did care about Hwanwoong. Hwanwoong loved that feeling, and in him it bursted an uncontrollable warmth that made his face flush a bright red right in front of maybe the only person in the world who cared about him. 

“Hwanwoong?” Youngjo called, pulling away to get a good look of the burning red Hwanwoong. “Are you okay?”

And it terrified Hwanwoong.

**Author's Note:**

> And the story continues......... heheh
> 
> I didn’t think I’d get this far since this series was purely for coping reasons but I actually really do treasure this series and really hope I don’t fuck it up somehow hahah
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


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